Oktavia stood against the light. Nightingale hums simulated the room, a shape of blood lotus forming out from her palms with a pop. There is nothing behind the wall except a space where the wind whistles, and the dead body of an engineer.
Oktavia inhibited Elizabet by pulling her close, the depth of her scent inhaled like a coiling python ready to eat their prey. Her eyes, draping ice.
A wave formed between them, a struggling fear in the human. “You’re going to kill me.”
“I’m sorry, my dear.” Eyes sharp, a mixture of her cold features bore itself into her skull.
The bionic pressed down on her netrusion chip.
“What are you doing?”
“I am shutting down. Goodbye, Elizabet.”
“Wait—wait, please, there’s—”
“You did what I asked. Now we’re free.”
The hovercraft, which they were in, crashed.
Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose (not a poem) of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line,
“there is nothing behind the wall
except a space where the wind whistles”
from “Drawings By Children” by Lisel Mueller.
The ending was not intended to be ironic or initially funny (even though, I laughed so hard when writing it). I had these characters created for awhile, actually, and I just needed to put them in some situation. Might run off with this idea with space-travel and wormholes, I don’t know. My NaNoWriMo goal is already a failure. 😀